Felicity Stockwell and the Book of Marks
by G M Kearney
Summary: Continuation of the adventures of Felicity Stockwell and the American magical world. Please read and review. You may wish to read Felicity Stockwell and the Widow's Son also uploaded here.
1. On Salem Commons

Felicity stood on the dark green grass of Salem Commons with her mother and father. A ways off was a small gazebo with a group of people standing next to it. She looked about to get her bearings. There was the bench and next to it was the trash can with its witch logo.  
  
``It was here'', she said to her father, looking up at him.  
  
``You're sure'', Martin Stockwell said looking at his young daughter.   
  
Martin and Anne Stockwell had been overwhelmed with the news that Felicity, their only child, had been the Raiser that the magical peoples of America had so long waited for. It had taken Mr. Williams, The commissioner of Magic, several minutes to convince Martin of the truth of the report. It took Anne Stockwell weeks to fully come to grips with just how important to the wizzarding world the Raising and her daughter now were.  
  
``Yes I'm sure'', Felicity said. ``Roger was at my right and Sarah on my left. The Widow's Son was in a sort of hole covered with a strange silvery material right in front of me.''  
  
Martin and Anne Stockwell had heard this story from their daughter before. However hearing it here, in the very spot where Felicity, Roger and Sarah had raised the Widow's Son from the tweens and freed Salem from its long held curse gave them both a shiver.  
  
Anne Stockwell in particular was moved by the occasion. Over the weeks that had followed that early spring day she had come to realize just how important she was in the matter of the Raising. Without her Muggle blood her daughter would not have been able to set foot on Salem's soil and perform the act which now permitted so many of her friends and neighbors from Providence and Rhode Island to return to Salem, the home of their ancestors.  
  
However the matter also troubled her. Martin had warned her that there was danger to their daughter from those who had not wanted the curse to be lifted. Felicity's life would now never be the same as it had been. This slight girl with the dark red hair would forever carry with her a secret that she must never reveal, not even to her future family. It seemed to Anne Stockwell a tremendous burden to place on a 14-year-old school girl. But it was one that Felicity, so far, seemed to be bearing up well under. Other than discussing the matter with her mother and father Felicity had spoken of it only with Sarah when she visited the Goldstines in Newport a few week earlier.  
  
Felicity had not heard much from Roger over the summer. A few letters from camp had arrived by muggle mail. They had been short and without much to call attention to them. Felicity's mother had told her that lots of boys don't write letters and that Roger was more than likely very busy as a junior counselor at camp. Still Felicity missed his sensible advice. Other than her parents and Sarah, Roger was the only other person who knew of Felicity's secret and to whom she might speak of it.  
  
``We need to mark this place somehow,'' her father's words broke in. He was looking about. He took out his wand and said. ``Calculus''.  
  
In the grass, under her feet, Felicity could see stones appear. They formed a rectangle in the place where the Widow's Son had been. Her father walked over to one in the front and waved his wand over it saying ``insigno'' as he did so.   
  
Felicity looked at the stone in its hard granite surface was cut several shapes which looked like this:  
  
NOTEAt this point in the printed text there is an illistration of the figures represented as a group of right angels and dots./NOTE  
  
``What is it?'' Felicity asked her father, looking at the curious marks in the face of the stone.  
  
``They are wizzard's marks'', her father said.  
  
Martin Stockwell caught himself. Had he said too much to his bright and curious daughter? Wizard's mark were one of the more esoteric matters taught to Salem students. It was one of the last lesson given to the Master Class students always late in the year. It clearly was not something to be brought to the attention of a member of the apprentice class.  
  
Felicity looked at the other stones that lay before her. Most were normal and uninteresting looking. Typical of New England, grey-white granite with flecks of black. Only one other stone possessed any kind of a marking. It stood a ways off by the bench. It was marked with the same sort of marks as her father had produced:  
  
NOTEAt this point in the printed text there is an illistration of the figures represented as a group of right angels and dots./NOTE  
  
Martin Stockwell raised his wand once again ``Calculus evaneo'' he said. With that the stones sunk back under the grass from whence they had appeared. The grass showed no sign of having been molested in any way.  
  
``Now we will be able to find this spot should we ever have a need to.'' Martin Stockwell said to his wife and daughter.  
  
The three of them returned to the small group by the gazebo in the center of the commons. It was made up of adults from Providence and Rhode Island. Friends and acquaintances of Felicity's parents mostly.  
  
Mrs. Quimbly came up to the Stockwells. With her was a girl, slightly older than Felicity. Martin, Anne, I would like to introduce Alice Marvolo her family recently moved to Salem from Slindon, England. Alice will be attending Salem Academy in the fall as a member of the Fellowcraft class.  
  
Martin Stockwell took Alice's hand. ``A pleasure to meet you.'' Alice said in a soft British accent.  
  
Alice Riddle Marvolo was a tall statuesque young woman with fine features and dark hair. She was from an old wizzarding family. Felicity judge her to be about Roger's age and height. It was Alice's eyes, however, that called attention to her. Large and dark they seemed to draw people into her. Her hair was long falling almost to her waist. She wore an off white silk blouse and short skirt which made her look older than her 15 or 16 years.  
  
``Yours must be the first magical family to live in Salem since the Raising.'' Anne Stockwell said.  
  
``I believe so.'' Said Alice. ``My father took a chair in divinity at Harvard just after the Raising and thought it would be interesting to live in Salem with its history and all.''  
  
Felicity thought that Alice seemed wonderfully at ease with adults. She admired her use of words and the effect they had on those around her. It was as if she was an adult herself.  
  
``This is my daughter, Felicity. She will be going into the Apprentice class in the fall at Salem.'' Martin Stockwell said.  
  
``Nice to meet you.'' Alice said extending her hand to Felicity.  
  
Felicity was not accustom to such a formal greetings by someone her own age. As she took Alice's hand she notice how smooth and clear skinned she was. No pimples, her skin looked like that of the models in Vogue or Seventeen unlike Felicity with her freckles. Her hand was cool to the touch.  
  
``Well I had better be going.'' She said. ``We still have a good deal of unpacking to do at the flat.''  
  
Felicity watched as Alice walked away across the commons. ``She's so poised.'' She thought to herself. ``She is sure to turn the heads of the boys at Salem Academy.''  
  
Felicity always felt herself to be a somewhat plain looking girl. There wasn't, as her Aunt Joan said, ``a bit of truth to it''. With her red hair and searching green eyes Felicity had always stood out. Yet she longed to be elegant, to have the sort of figure that Sarah had the kind of girl boys would swoon over as Joan put it. She wanted to be exactly the kind of girl Alice clearly was.  
  
``What's a flat?'' Felicity asked her father as they flew home from Salem that evening.  
  
``It a British term for an apartment.'' Her mother said holding tightly to her husbands waist as the early evening traffic past below them. The lights of Providence were beginning to come on as the three descended in to the park down the street from 23 Waybossett Street. Felicity had become quite good at flying in the city undetected. The trick was to choose carefully where you were to take off or land and to fly as high as possible as quickly as you could.  
  
By the time they got home Felicity was exhausted. Every time she had to tell the story of the Raising she felt that way. She climbed the stairs to her bedroom and flopped down her bed. She starred up at the ceiling of her room as the last light of the day filtered in through the window. ``I used to like being special'' Felicity thought to herself. ``but having to keep this secret is hard.'' Felicity wished to be back at school where at least she might be able to talk to Roger and Sarah about it.  
  
``Felicity, there is something you should know.'' The voice was small but urgent sounding. Felicity stood up and looked about the room. No one was there. She got up and looked out the door but could see no one.  
  
``Over here.'' The voice said. It came from her window. Marx, her cat was perched on the window sill.  
  
``Who is it?'' Felicity said going to the window.  
  
``It's me, Marx.'' Said the cat, speaking as if a talking cat was the most normal thing in the world.  
  
``You can talk!'' Felicity said, amazed at her pet's new found skill.  
  
``Of course I can talk.'' Said Marx in a somewhat indigent tone.  
  
``I have something you should know.'' Marx went on. ``Word has it that the Dark Lord has sent spies to America to discover who the Raisers are. You must be careful.''  
  
``But how did you know I was \ldots ''  
  
Marx blinked at Felicity, ``I live in this house don't I? I hear things. Anyway, there may be danger about. do you understand?''  
  
Felicity nodded. Marx got up and stretched getting ready to leave the room by way of the window.  
  
``Marx.'' Felicity asked. ``All these years, why have you never spoken until now?''  
  
``Because,'' Marx answered. ``I didn't have anything to say.'' 


	2. You can tell a wizard by his mark

``It's too short.'' Aunt Joan said looking at Felicity who was standing on an ottoman in the center of Joans living room.   
Felicity had on her school uniform.   
``It doesn't leave much to the imagination.'' Aunt Joan giggled. ``You must have grown.'' she said.  
Felicity looked down at the skirt. She didn't remember it being that short at school last year.   
  
Aunt Joan had shortened the shirts before the start of school. Felicity had worried that the skirts were a bit too short. Now, she recalled, that by the end of school her's had had been some of the shortest ones in school. But looking at them now even Aunt Joan, who always seemed to favor the style, had to agree that they needed to be taken down a bit.  
  
Aunt Joan took out her wand and stood back a ways. ``longitudo'' she said.  
  
The skirt which had broken about four inches from Felicity's knees started to grow longer. Slowly at first but then faster. In a moment it had reached the floor and was gathering up in big piles at the ottoman.  
  
``Aunt Joan!'' Felicity said, a bit alarmed at the growing mound of fabric at her feet. ``I think it's long enough.''  
  
``Ooops,'' Aunt Joan smilled. ``New wand.'' She said. She waived if in front of Felicity and the fabric stopped growing. ``Reseco.'' She said and the skirt again grew shorter. when it had reached about three inches above the knees Aunt Joan halted it progress and had Felicity turn about. After a few minor adjustments Joan declared the job done. ``Not as short as l like.'' she informed Felicity. ``But with Miss Brattle back in charge and with you growing so much it's just as well.''  
  
Felicity had grown. Where once she might have hidden her figure under loose fitting clothing this was now impossible. She was nearly as tall as her mother and could easily fit into her mother's and aunt's clothing. She was tall for her age and athletic.   
  
Aunt Joan saw it, Felicity was no longer the shy school-girl she had been. She was fast becoming a confident young woman. Joan wonder when this sudden change had occurred in her niece. Then she recalled her years at Salem Academy and how adulthood had crept up on her so quickly as well.  
  
Aunt Joan modified the other skirts. Felicity would try on each in turn while Aunt Joan regulated the length as she had the first. As the afternoon wore on a pile of grey skirts grew on the couch.  
  
Felicity looked about the room. It was cool and dark with dark wood part way up the walls. The walls were coved with photographs of family members. Some moved from time to time in the soft light. There was a picture of her mother and father in the row boat at the cottage on Cape Cod. Pictures of her grandparents holding babies who were now grown adults. Pictures of her father and aunt on brooms in front of the house.   
  
There were pictures of Felicity as a baby as well. In particular was one of her sitting in a small rocking chair holding a black kitten.  
  
The kitten was Marx. Marx had appeared at the Stockwell home the night Martin and Anne Stockwell had brought Felicity home from the hospital. At first Anne Stockwell was worried that the kitten might hurt her new born daughter. But the cat seemed to have a bond with Felicity and as she grew the cat, which Martin Stockwell hand named Marx, remained close by.  
  
As a small girl there was never a night that Marx didn't sleep at the foot of Felicity's bed. It was not until Felicity had left for school that the two of them had not been together.   
  
Felicity remembered that she had always thought of Marx as a perfectly ordinary cat until he had spoken to her. She should have figured that there was nothing ordinary in her life anymore. Brooms were a mans of transportation, all of her father's family were magical and cats, of course, could talk. When they wished to.  
  
The sweaters and blazers needed only minor adjustments but Aunt Joan declared that the blouses were beyond even magic's help in making them fit. ``We'll have to go to WCMI and buy some new ones, those are way to tight for you.''  
  
Felicity could see that Aunt Joan was right about the blouses. The sleeves were much to short now and they buttoned only with difficulty.  
  
Felicity turned to take off the blouse and put on her sweatshirt. As she did so she notice the stained class panel above one of the windows. The sun cast a light through it leaving a colored patten on the rug. With in the glass where a design which Felicity had seen all of her life it was a right angel over a v shape. Her father had cufflinks with the design. and it was set into the knocker on the door of the Stockwell home.  
  
Felicity had never given it much thought but now she recalled the engravings that her father had placed in the stone at Salem Commons. They were oddly similar in appearance. She gazed at the window for some time.  
  
``Felicity.'' Her aunt said. ``Don't you think you should finish getting dressed?''  
  
``Dressed, oh yes of course.'' Felicity said putting on the rest of her clothing.  
  
``Aunt Joan, what are wizards marks?'' Felicity asked as they sat in Aunt Joan bight, airy kitchen eating a late lunch. The kitchen was painted in a bright yellow and looked out on Joan's herb gardens. Aunt Joan grew herbs for the various apothecary shops in the wizarding world.  
  
Aunt Joan look at her young niece with a puzzled look on her face. ``Now where did you hear of wizards marks at your age?'' she asked.  
  
Felicity proceeded to tell her aunt of the visit to Salem, Massachusetts and the marks which her father had placed into the stones.  
  
Aunt Joan realized at once that her little brother had clearly told Felicity more than he had intended to. She thought for a bit, and then decided that the damage had been done. Besides, Felicity was so curious that it was unlikely that she would find out about the marks on her own anyway.  
  
``Well ... " her aunt began. ``I can't tell you everything about them. In particular how to read them, for that will have to wait until you are raised to the Master class at school. But I can tell you this. Each witch or wizard has a mark. In our father's case it is has been handed down from father to son just as the name Martin has been.''  
  
Felicity's father, Martin Stockwell, was from a long line of Martin Stockwells, each of the oldest sons had shared his father's first name of Martin and his mother's maiden name. Felicity had broken the chain, being the only child of the last Martin Stockwell.  
  
``So ... '' her aunt went on. ``When a witch or wizard needs to mark something like their property or a grave or what have you they use their wizard's mark. Your father's looks like this:'' Joan took out a sheet of paper and drew the following on it:  
  
PICTUE HERE  
  
``It's a complicated system which is why they wait till your a Master. And your not to be using them until you have graduated, so you don't get your own until you are about to graduate and become a full fledge witch. So you really don't need to be worrying about it now understand?''  
  
Felicity nodded.  
  
``But why do we have to wait to get our mark until we graduate?'' Felicity asked.  
  
``It's an old tradition my dear, getting your wizard's mark is sort of like getting a diploma.''  
  
Felicity and Aunt Joan walked out into the garden. Felicity helped her aunt pick some herbs and carry them back to the small glass greenhouse at the corner of the garden. There in a room filled with drying herbs she and her aunt packed herbs to be delivered to her aunt's customers.  
  
The room smelled of a thousand different herbs all hanging in dry bunches from the ceiling and walls. Each package was carefully measured on a tiny delicate looking brass scale before being placed into a thick envelope.   
  
Aunt Joan would then fold over the flap of the envelope and then take a red candle and drop a few drops of red wax to seal it. She then took a small brass seal and press it into the soft wax it left an impression of a box with a dot in the center and a triangle at the bottom pointing downwards. She held it up for Felicity to inspect.  
  
``You see, my dear.'' She said. `` You can tell a wizard by his mark.'' 


	3. What's in a name

Felicity and Sarah stood, brooms in hand, on the platform of the train station in Providence. Mrs. Goldstien hovered over her youngest child fussing with her tie. The tie was now the dark green of the Apprentice class.  
  
"Are you sure you want to fly up to school from Portland?" She asked in a worried tone.  
  
"Mother!" Sarah said. "Why did you have me take all those flying lesions this summer if I'm not going to use them?"  
  
Sarah had taken flying lesions from a witch living on Block Island for several weeks in the summer. She had written Felicity that her fly had greatly improved as a result. "I only get blown off course every now and then, and I haven't hit a building or a tree in ever so long" she had reported.  
  
The two girls had agreed to fly from the Portland train station to school that fall. It had taken Sarah considerable effort to convince her mother to let her take the trip on her own. Only the intercession of her father had managed to convince her mother she was ready for such a journey. "Besides ... " he had told his wife, "it's not as if she will be alone, Felicity will be with her and I hear that she is one of the best aviators in school. She was the one who figured out how to play LaQuidd without holding onto the broom after all." Mrs. Goldstine wasn't sure that trusting someone who flew her broom without hands was such a good idea and had made Felicity pledge to keep both hand on the broom at all times during the flight to Salem.  
  
If the truth of the matter be known if was not the flying that bothered Ruth Goldstine at all; it was the fact that her little girl had been one of the Raisers and now might be in danger should that become widely known. Ruth Goldstine's imagination of the danger had gotten the better of her. It took Commissioners Williams personal reassurance that all would be safe for her daughter at Salem Academy to but her mind at ease.  
  
So the trunks containing the uniforms, LaQuidd sticks, books and other items had been sent up by luggage transport a week before and the two girls now stood on the platform of the train station waiting for train number 66 "The Federal" from Washington to Boston to arrive. Once in Boston they would take train number 681 "The Downeaster" to Portland. The cool morning air mixed with the smell of fumes on the platform.  
  
"Train number 66 the Federal now arriving on track two with continuing service to Boston." The announcement cracked over the loud speakers. As it did so the silver cars of the train rumbled into the station and glided to a stop before the Stockwells and the Goldstines.  
  
The doors opened and a number of people got out. Then the conductor gestured for the girls to board. Felicity and Sarah hugged their mothers. Sarah said that she would send her owl home with a letter as soon as they had arrived at school. The conductor offered his hand and the two were helped onto the train.  
  
Once aboard the conductor showed the two where to put their brooms. They then took a seat near the front of the car and looked out the window to see their parents waiving at them.  
  
"Mother always cries when I leave her for any length of time." Sarah inform Felicity.  
  
"I think mine does too." Felicity offered.   
  
"Only yours waits until she's home." Sarah said with a smile.  
  
The platform stated to appear to be moving away from the girls as the train gently moved out of the station towards Boston and Maine.  
  
"So," Sarah said between bits of the bagel her mother had insisted she take with here. "what have you heard from Roger?"   
  
Sarah could tell right away that this was not a question Felicity wanted to answer.  
  
"Not much." Felicity said looking out the window at the houses passing by.  
  
"Boys can be such jerks sometimes." Sarah offered. "But there are bound to be some new boys at school." She said with a hopeful note in her voice.  
  
The girls talked about their summer vacations. Sarah and Peter How had carried on a thriving correspondence by owl mail over the summer and it was clear to Felicity that Sarah could hardly wait to see Peter again. They got up and went to the dinning car but decided against getting anything until they were in Portland. It would be about noon then and they could find something on the way up to Salem.  
  
In Boston the two transfered to the train that would take them up the coast to Maine. The trip took them past the low sandy shores moving north. The train made a few stops in tourist towns along the southern Maine coast. In the summer the train would have been filled with people seeking a days outing at the beach in Old Orchard with it's boardwalk and caravel rides. But today most of the riders were going to Portland as well.  
  
Three hours after leaving Boston the train came to a stop in Portland. The Portland train station is perfect for young witches to fly in and out of. Unlike most train stations in New England it is located just out of the center of the city and has open areas around it from which one can take off or land on a broom without drawing too much attention to yourself.  
  
The two girls walked away from the station before getting on their brooms. After insuring that they were alone, they lifted off and soared high into the noon-day sky over the city.  
  
"Sarah's flying has improved." Thought Felicity to herself. For other than a bit of wobbling upon takeoff Sarah now flew along side Felicity without any difficulty at all.  
  
"Your flying has improved." Felicity told Sarah as they few along.  
  
"Thank you." Sarah answered dipping a bit as her concentration on flying was broken.  
  
"You hungry?" Felicity asked, looking down at the streets of Freeport passing under her.  
  
"Yah, let's get something." Sarah answered.  
  
They then dipped the fronts of their brooms downward and landed at the far end of a parking lot. Walking up the hill they found themselves in front of a massive store. The green sign on the front announced that they were at L.L. Bean.  
  
L. L. Bean is to sporting goods what WCMI is to wizards supplies. Open twenty four hours a day seven days a week. The store carries all manner of clothing, camping supplies, hunting and fishing gear and other assorted items.  
  
Felicity and Sarah wandered through the store until they ended up in the women's clothing section.  
  
"Let's try on some dresses!" Sarah suggested eyeing a short blue knit dress. Soon the girls were standing in front of a mirror admiring themselves in matching blue dresses.   
  
"It a nice dress, but this color doesn't suit me." Felicity said, looking at herself. "I wonder if they have it in any other colors?" She went over to the rack of dresses but found that it only came in navy.   
  
"Too bad." Sarah said looking at Felicity in the dress. "That would look great on you in yellow. You always look good in yellow with your red hair and all." Sarah then produced her wand and before Felicity knew what happened, Sarah had changed the dress from navy to a pale yellow.  
  
"Sarah!" Felicity giggled, "You know we're not to do magic around muggles!"  
  
"I know." Sarah said, trying hard not to laugh. "Isn't it wicked of me!"  
  
"Well I think you would look better in red!" Felicity then raised her wand and changed Sarah's dress to red. The two fell into a fit of giggles in front of the mirror. They tried several other colors comparing the merits of each while priming in front of the mirror.  
  
"It's too bad, but we really don't need any dresses." Felicity said, remembering that the school permitted only formal dresses a few times a year. The rest of the time the school uniforms were to be worn.   
  
"Yes it is." Pined Sarah, as she tried a few more colors in front of the mirror.   
  
What neither Sarah nor Felicity had noticed was a growing group of sales clerks and customers who had been watching the two from a ways off. The sight of the two young witches changing the color of the dresses to suit themselves was not something one sees everyday at L. L. Bean.  
  
Finally a young woman stepped out of the group and came up to the two.  
  
"Salem Academy?" She said quietly.  
  
Felicity and Sarah looked at her.  
  
"Yes, but how did you know ... " Felicity said just as Sarah let out a little gasp. Sarah had turned to see the group which had been watching them.  
  
"You really shouldn't be doing magic out in the open like this." The young woman had a serious look on her face. "If Miss Brattle were to find out."  
  
"Your not going to tell are you?" Sarah pleaded.  
  
"No I'm not going to tel." The woman answered. "But it might be best if you two were on your way. Go change back into your uniforms and I'll stay here and figure out something to tell these people."  
  
Sarah and Felicity slipped into the dressing rooms and changed. When they got out the crowed was gone and the woman was waiting for them.  
  
"In the future be more discreet. If you want to try a different color go into the dressing room first. OK?" The girls shook there heads in agreement. "And let me introduce myself I'm Linda Bean, I work in advertising. I graduated from Salem in 1996."  
  
She shook their hands and walked with them to the door. "If you want an ice cream there is a Ben and Jerry's right over there." She said. Pointing to a small building on the street. "And try not to take off around any people." She called as the two headed off to the ice cream parlor.  
  
Once the two had gotten something to eat and bought ice cream they found a secluded spot and lifted off into the afternoon sky.  
  
"I wonder what she told all those people?" Felicity said as they flew along eating the last of their ice cream cones.  
  
Felicity had figured out that if they were to fly due north they would eventually pass over the river which they could then follow up to the school. The day was fair and neither Sarah nor Felicity noticed the clouds gathering in the western sky.  
  
At the river they pointed their brooms upstream and flew faster. Sarah looked down and saw the figure of a boy a broom below them.  
  
"Let's go down and see who it is." She said pointing to the figure.  
  
The two girls dove down and came up on either side of the boy. He was struggling some with the broom and was startled by the appearance of the two young girls now flying on either side of him. He was wearing the tie of an Entered Class member.  
  
"Hi." Sarah said in a cheery voice.  
  
"Hi." Came back the reply from the boy who was clearly new to flying which required his full attention.  
  
Felicity thought it odd that a entered class student was flying to Salem Academy on his own. Where were his parents? She wondered.  
  
"What's your name?" Felicity asked trying to be polite and make conversation with the boy.  
  
"Thomas." He said, gripping the broom even tighter. Little beads of perspiration were forming on his forehead. It was clear to Felicity that having Sarah and herself flying with him was not helping the boy's concentration any.  
  
"Thomas what?" Asked Sarah.  
  
"I'd rather not say." Answered the boy looking straight ahead. There was an awkward pause as the three flew along.  
  
Felicity looked over at Sarah. "Well, we'll be going now." She said and the two lifted off high above the boy.  
  
"That was strange." Sarah said.  
  
"Sure was." Felicity thought to herself. "What's in a name that he would not want to tell us who he is?" She wondered.  
  
At the last bend in the river drops of water began to fall from the sky which had become overcast. Felicity decided that Aunt Joan had been right. Flying in the rain was not much fun. She and Sarah picked up speed and closed in on Salem Academy and its old stone buildings.  
  
They sailed up to the buildings and rushed in just as the rain started to pour. From the window of Franklin Hall 319 Felicity watched as the boy on the broom made a rough landing tumbling to the ground in the courtyard. He got up and rushed into Dickinson Hall.  
  
The rain fell hard all that night and into the morning of the next day.  
  
In the morning, after breakfast, the Assembly Hall slowly filled up with students and faculty for the first school meeting of the year. Faculty guided the Entered Class members to their seats on the back row. A new Union Jack flag had been hung in the room next to the flag of Utah.  
  
Felicity and Sarah took their seats just below the boy they had meet on their trip to school. On the other side of the room Roger sat with the Fellowcraft Class. Next to him was seated Alice Marvolo. The two were engaged in an animated conversation. Felicity felt a wave of jealousy come over her, this time she made no attempt to quell it.  
  
Felicity had been right about the Alice's effect on the boys as Salem Academy. a steady stream of boys came up to introduce themselves to her. She also realized that any concerns she had about having the shortest skirts at school were unnecessary. Alice's skirts were shorter than hers or any of the other girls in school by far.  
  
Miss Brattle stood up before the school and the room settled down. She welcomed the students back to school and introduced herself and the faculty. Then, as was the custom, she asked each of the new student to stand and introduce themselves starting with the oldest.  
  
Alice Marvolo stood and in her British accent introduced herself and told the assembly that she was from England but was living with her family in Salem, Massachusetts.  
  
The introductions continued until they reached the boy seated behind Felicity and Sarah. He stood up slowly and said:  
  
"My my name's Thomas I'm fro... from Chesterville, Maine." He was about to sit down when Miss Brattle spoke.  
  
"And your last name is?" she quizzed.  
  
Felicity noticed that Alice seemed to take a particular interest in the boy at this question. The boy shuffled his feet. He looked nervous. Little beads of sweat reappeared on the hapless boy. Finally he said.  
  
"Riddle, my name is Thomas Riddle."  
  
From in front of her Felicity heard someone whipper "mudblood!" 


End file.
